What's Your Sexual Blueprint?

I happened to have a rather pleasant first sexual experience. I loved my boyfriend, he loved me, it didn't hurt, there was a full moon out, and we shared a cigarette (sorry) after. I didn't wake up the next morning feeling like I had lost something or I was a different person; I wasn't scared.

My introduction to sex had been at age five with a "mechanics" talk from my mother, accompanied by a home-drawn diagram (which I asked to color in). And then, like a lot of young girls do, I discovered the bathtub faucet but worried that I was doing something disgusting and sinful.

But my sexual blueprint—and by blueprint I mean the definition of S-E-X we all live by—was really formed when, after all those early experiences, I entered into a slew of terrible, often abusive, and most definitely not enjoyable experiences with men. I had boyfriends who forced me to do things I didn't want to, in places I didn't want to, in ways I didn't want to. Early on, nothing about sex felt good. Mostly I just wanted to get it over with. Coupled with an eating disorder and a bad body image, this all made sex, in truth, kind of awful.

By the time I was in my early twenties, my sexual blueprint had been drafted, and it was not a house I wanted to live in.

But this isn't a sad story. Thankfully, I was lucky enough to meet someone who helped me draw new plans, and my early experiences got me thinking: Why is it so hard for us women to break free of that early definition of sex?

I've read that sex can affect women more intensely than men—and I believe it. Guys get a pleasure hormone from orgasm; we get a "bonding" hormone. So it's no surprise that we can, as women, bond not just to our partners but to the very idea of what sex is, should be, could be, isn't. But if you believe too much in your blueprint, I have to warn you: You could arrest your own sexual development. A friend of mine dated a guy early on who didn't like foreplay or kissing, so to her, sex was the act, not the emotions. Another friend started out with a guy who thought her "hardware" was "gross," so for years she wouldn't let anyone go down there. But these blueprints, of course, turned out to be false! They were just one experience. Like life, sex is a learning process. I sure hope that at 80 I know more about my body and my partner than I do now, and that an idea I came up with at 19 isn't keeping me from the fun.

All of this became even more interesting to me when I came home one night to my boyfriend and his guy friends talking about how at a young age they were all welcomed into the sexual community. Some of their brothers gave them porn, most of their dads gave them "the talk," they all discussed masturbation with friends—none of which I experienced. Their blueprints were awesome. But as young girls, my friends and I never spoke about sex; never, say, looked for Mom's porn stash or a big sister's vibrator. Most of us thought masturbation was shameful and dirty. (In fact, from what I've gathered, most of us thought it was something shameful and dirty that only we had ever tried.)

Yes, it's easy to form a sexual blueprint, but I'm here to tell you, it's just as easy to break it. Of course having a giving partner is essential, but your blueprint comes from you; you create it. At the risk of sounding super cheesy, you are the master of your sexual universe. It was an incredibly long and arduous process for me, given that my blueprint was such a nasty one, but eventually I burned it up. Well, almost all of it. So far I've learned to remember that sex is meant to be enjoyed, and to stay present and open. No one sexual experience is the experience. Even with the same partner it can change over years, weeks, days. So let go of that silly drawing, toss it, or roll it up and shove it in a closet—you don't need it. All you need is yourself, your body, and an open mind. Because wouldn't it be fun to constantly decorate a new house?